


Don't Stay The Same

by shm00mzz



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: ADHD Scout, Comfort, Emotional Support, F/M, Fran for short, Gen, Im sleep deprived, Implied Relationships, Mental Health Issues, Miss Pauling's name is Francine, Other, Poorly written, They're best friends, You Decide, i project onto scout a lot, i'm still new to this how do i tag, idk if this qualifies as angst, name headcanon, oh well, or dating, this is based on a conversation i had that stuck with me, this is entirely self indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:48:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24552661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shm00mzz/pseuds/shm00mzz
Summary: Scout's feeling bad and doubting himself, but Miss Pauling reassures him that he's doing well.
Relationships: Miss Pauling/Scout (Team Fortress 2)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 35





	Don't Stay The Same

**Author's Note:**

> Woop first time posting a TF2 fic. Didn't think *this* one would be it, though.
> 
> This is based on a conversation I had with my very best pal about my own issues and feeling like I hadn't changed over the last year. They called me a whore (lovingly,) cheered me up with kind words, and the whole thing made me feel a hell of a lot better. Why'd I write a fic about it? I have no idea.
> 
> This can be read as Scout and Pauling as a couple or them as best buds.
> 
> Miss Pauling's name is Francine. Enjoy.

Scout sat on his bed, legs crossed. He was tossing a baseball in the air and catching it repeatedly, a simple way to pass time during these ceasefires. It’d been two days since he’d been on the battlefield, which felt like an eternity in contrast to his work days. His days of fighting where the passage of time was clouded by adrenaline and excessive amounts of caffeine. Plus, to make things worse, there was no sign that this ceasefire would end anytime soon.

It was barely 1:00. Scout groaned, tipping over sideways to have his face collide with the cheap pillow at the head of his bed. Being alone with his mind wasn't necessarily a great thing, especially for long periods of time. His thoughts went from things as simple as wondering what he’d have for breakfast the next day or what bat he’d use first once this was over, to long dregs of existentialism. Seems like a big jump, but with an ADHD brain running at a million miles per hour, the massive leaps in Scout’s train of thought were nothing to be surprised by. 

The emotional crashes were inevitable.

Scout wasn’t perfect. He had a big ego that his intelligence couldn’t measure up to. He was confident to a fault, and his self assuredness was inflated beyond what most would see as healthy. Sure, some of it was a cover-up for insecurity, and a lot of his problems (both with his inflated self image and his strong self doubt) likely resulted from an imperfect upbringing, but that’s not important.

What’s important is that his brain occasionally needed a break from that trademark carefree confidence, and that led to him having these emotional dips; and those often came about when he couldn’t be distracted by his job.

Life felt bland, his brain betrayed him with intrusive thoughts, and sleeping through the days didn’t do much except fuck up his circadian rhythms. He was beginning to trek down a spiral of his own thoughts when he was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Mm, whossere?”

The door opened slightly, and Scout was relieved to see that face. A smile crept across his face. “Hey, Fran.”

Miss Pauling stepped in, gently shutting the door behind her. Her hair was tied up in a bun, wearing a purple polo shirt tucked into black dress pants. An oddly casual look, since she would typically work extra hard during ceasefires.

“Just thought I’d stop in. Finished my work here, and I’ve still got a while before I have to head out. How’re you holding up?”

Scout sat up a bit, leaning on his elbow with his head resting on his hand. “I’ve had better days. How’s work treatin’ you?” She moved some dirty clothes off of the spinny chair next to the desk in the corner of the room, tidying small bits of clutter as she spoke.

“Well, as is usual when these things crop up, there’s a  _ lot  _ of paperwork to do. But the Administrator loosened her grip on me a bit this time. Probably because the work’s gonna be less concentrated until this lets up.”

The lanky mercenary nodded. He never fully understood Miss Pauling’s work. Of course, he didn’t understand a lot of things.

Silence laid heavy in the air. Miss Pauling looked up from her habitual tidying, giving Scout a concerned look. “Scout, are you alright? You’re usually not this quiet.”

He shrugged. “Not much t’ talk about.” She put her hands on her hips and cocked an eyebrow. “You’ve  _ always  _ got something to talk about. What’s eating you?” Scout exhaled sharply from his nose. “What are you, a shrink? C’mon, I’m jus’ tired.” Miss Pauling scoffed. “Don’t pull that shit on me, I know you better than that. I won’t push if you don’t want to talk about it right now, but…” she paused, glancing at the floor for a moment, “you can always talk to me if something’s bothering you.”

Scout sat up, still not saying a word. Pauling loosened her stance a bit, then leaned over to pick up trash off of the floor. 

“Thanks, Miss P.” Scout picked up the baseball and picked at the stitches with his short nails.

“No problem.” She didn’t look up.

It was almost completely silent, with only the rustling of trash and the sound of a ball being repeatedly tossed and caught filling that void, until Scout finally spoke. 

“It’s just that-“

He took a moment to mentally prepare his sentence, scratching at the peach fuzz on his chin

“It feels like nothing eve’ changes around here, y’know?”

Miss Pauling turned around, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “What?”

He tossed up the ball again, catching it in his left hand, then proceeded to rapidly toss it back and forth.

“Every day, it’s just the nine of us, doin’ the same shit over an’ over again. No matter where we go or... or what we gain from it. It all feels the same. I get t’ same guns, complete t’ same objectives, buy t’ same shit with those ‘payments’ Hale gives us.” He let out a sigh, 

“All I can do is put onna different hat while I’m kickin’ ass. An’ after a while, even dat ain’t fun anymore.” He tossed the ball up in the air, caught it, and then threw it across the room, knocking over a carefully stacked pyramid of empty  _ BONK!  _ cans.

Miss Pauling walked over to his bed and laid down, resting her head on Scout’s lap. “Well, I know you’ve changed, Jeremy.”

His face felt warm at the use of his name. She continued;

“You’re not the asshole I knew when you first started working for RED. You’re not a jumpy, wild, scrawny motormouth anymore. Well, not to the same extent you used to be.”

Scout snorted, then chuckled. “That’s comforting.”

She slapped his bicep, laughing before she continued. “You’re emotionally intelligent. You’re brave and tactically skilled. You’re strong both physically and mentally. You’re kind, you’re smart, you know what you’re doing. I’m proud of you. Seriously.”

She smiled, shifting her head to look him in the eyes. “You’ve come a long way since I first met you.”

Scout smiled wide, putting his arms around his friend in the most comfortable way he could, essentially laying his arm down on Pauling’s chest. She didn’t waste time reaching to hold onto him, either. She messed about with the loose bits of his hand wraps as she continued to talk.

“I used to stick to work like my life depended on it, even when I was off the clock. But then, the department of labor came a-knocking about my one day off and eighty hour work weeks. Now I’ve got more time on my hands.”

Scout raised a brow as her words. She held up a hand, in a way saying ‘not yet, there’s more.’ Scout used his free hand to slip his dog tags into his mouth, the metallic taste laid on his tongue as he absentmindedly toyed with them.

“I hated being away from work, but since I started spending more time with you and the other mercs, it’s actually really nice. Having time off. You mean a lot to me.”

“You mean a lot to me, too.”

Miss Pauling’s face became tinged with red and she chuckled, looking away. Scout felt a warmth pricking up in his torso. A small laugh escaped his lips. They just sat there in that moment, enjoying each other’s company. It felt like hours had passed when Pauling’s watch began beeping softly. She groaned and stretched a bit. Scout rubbed at his eyes.

“Mmm, I t’ink I fell asleep.” Miss Pauling laughed briefly at his words. “I  _ definitely  _ fell asleep. Your lap is comfortable, dude.” Scout lifted his arms up so Pauling could roll over and off his bed, slowly standing up and stretching more.

“Well, I’ve gotta run. Bodies aren’t gonna bury themselves.” She winked at Scout and fiddled with her watch for a moment.

“I love ya t’ death, Fran.” Scout chuckled. She smiled at the sentiment, then took a moment to place her hands on both sides of Scout’s face and planted a kiss on his forehead. She messed up his hair, grinning.

“I love you too, dumbass.”

With that, she waved and left the room, the door clicking softly behind her. Scout wrapped his arms around himself and took a deep breath, soaking in the atmosphere.

Being alone with his thoughts wasn’t too bad, when someone like  _ her  _ was around to cheer him up.


End file.
